


Something Lonesome About Me

by MurderRose



Series: Corona Drabbles [9]
Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Annoyance, Friendship, Friendship groups, Gen, Holiday, Sad, Sad Ending, Wonwoo Needs a Hug
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-28
Updated: 2020-03-28
Packaged: 2021-02-28 19:09:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,203
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23362234
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MurderRose/pseuds/MurderRose
Summary: He didn’t expect to be babied, to be minded, to be catered to or anything like that, but he did expect and excuse him for having standards, he did expect that at least one of the other members of this godforsaken group would maybe go out of their way, maybe try a little harder, maybe make an effort, to spend just a tiny bit, just a small small small bit of time with him.
Series: Corona Drabbles [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1674001
Comments: 10
Kudos: 27





	Something Lonesome About Me

**Author's Note:**

> Title from Hozier's 'From Eden'
> 
> If it feels personal its cause it is! I'm fine, don't worry, its based off a memory.
> 
> Characters aren't mine, this is fiction.

He didn’t expect to be babied, to be minded, to be catered to or anything like that, but he did expect and excuse him for having standards, he _did_ expect that at least one of the other members of this godforsaken group would maybe go out of their way, maybe try a little harder, maybe make an effort, to spend just a tiny bit, just a small small small bit of time with _him._

Wonwoo didn’t like clubs. He didn’t really enjoy the hot and heavy atmosphere, he didn’t appreciate the glances, didn’t derive any pleasure from the tight tight no airness of it all. 

He drank sure, all of them did, but he didn’t feel the need to imbibe every night. They were on a holiday, they weren’t on a mission to replace all the water in their bodies with alcohol.

Sleeping was amazing. On any given day at home, Wonwoo would luxuriate in an extra half hour of sleep; in those five minutes before the snooze ran out; in going to bed just twenty minutes early; in sleeping in on their days off. However, he was not a sloth. They were on holiday. They had picked Portugal because of the pretty scenery, the historic old town, the many many street vendors, markets and cafe-bars. 

Or so he thought. 

But upon mentioning how he’d enjoy going to the market that closed at noon, the overwhelming response was ‘that’s too early’. Why was it too early? That was obvious. Nobody had slept before 5am the previous night. Any night. Nobody slept. They drank and they partied and the joked and they partied and they drank and they drank and they drank and they drank.

Wonwoo was completely and utterly fed up.

Out of the twelve friends, he was very close to four or five, and yet nobody volunteered to go exploring with him. Nobody offered to skip a night out and stay in, watch a movie and sleep early.

So when the suggestion was made that they have dinner at home and then go for cocktails, Wonwoo couldn’t believe his luck. Cocktails sounded perfect. Have one or two or three and then go down to the beach, walk and talk and be in bed, or at least in the living room snoozing, at a reasonable hour.

He couldn’t have been _more_ wrong.

They started drinking before dinner was even made. Continued to drink and drink and drink and **then** when they finally left, and got cocktails, Wonwoo’s was overpriced and revolting, and to top it all off, nobody else had brought their cards, only cash, and the bar only accepted card. So who had to pay for it all? Wonwoo.

As if that wasn’t enough of an indignity, they all decided, despite Wonwoo’s increasingly verbal and vehement protests, to go clubbing after that.

They arrived at the club and Wonwoo beelined for the bathroom. He splashed water on his face and stared at himself in the mirror. "Jeon Wonwoo," he implored the mirror, "pull yourself together. Go out there, order a drink, down it and just suffer through at least an hour of this utter mess of an evening and then review."

Game plan in place, he exited the bathroom. Only to run straight into a very giddy, very bubbly Chan. Who touched his shoulder and started to ask him something but Wonwoo didn’t even hear him. He flinched away, and then tried to pretend he hadn’t and now everyone was looking at him, and Chan looked upset, and he had to leave.

He pushed past everyone and left the club. Leaning against the wall he tried to stop the tears from falling. They fell despite his wishes.

“Wonwoo-ya?” Jeonghan’s voice was gentle, he didn’t look up. “Would you like to go home?”

Wonwoo nodded sharply, and Jeonghan slipped his arm around his waist. He turned and pushed his face into Jeonghan’s shoulder for a moment, trying to get his tears to stop, and Jeonghan patted his back soothingly.

Jeonghan and Chan talked about everything and anything as the three of them walked home. Somehow the journey was quicker than other times, and before he knew it, he was tucked on the couch , cradling a cup of tea and wrapped in a light blanket. Chan put the remote control and a bar of chocolate from home beside him, and Jeonghan kissed his forehead.

“Okay, let us know if you need anything. We’ll keep our phones on, and text you when we get back to the group.” Jeonghan lingered in the doorway, and Chan tugged on his wrist. 

“Don’t wait up, hyung!”

And then they were gone.

How foolish of him to think that they would stay. How foolish of him to think that someone would maybe ask why he’d started to cry, why he’d snapped, why he looked like he needed to be wrapped up in blankets and fed chocolate. How foolish to think that he’d matter more than another night out in a week of nights out.

The tears were falling hot and heavily now. Wonwoo scrambled for his phone and with blurry vision called his brother. If nothing else, he knew he could count on his family to want to talk to him.

“Hey Hyung! How’s Portugal?” his brother answered immediately and Wonwoo sighed.

He couldn’t say anything, and his brother quickly switched to video. “Hyung? What’s wrong? Hyung! You’re crying?”

Wonwoo smiled through his tears, trust that boy to state the obvious. “Bohyukkie, Bohyukkie, Boyhukkie I want to go home,” he sobbed and Bohyuk cooed at him.

“Ah hyung, is it that bad?”

“All they do is-” he gulped in some air, “all they do is drink and party and I just want to watch films and play games and talk-” 

“Hyung, breathe for me, you need to breath I can’t help you if you’re not breathing.”

“I I I I I can’t,” he managed to get out around his sobs and Bohyuk sighed.

“Where are they?” Bohyuk asked after Wonwoo’s sobs had petered off a little and he was breathing, mostly.

“Jeonghan-hyung and Chan-ah brought me home cause I snapped at Chan and started crying, but they went back down to the clubs.”

Bohyuk frowned, “Do you want me to call them? Get someone to come back?”

“I don’t want them to think I’m a baby, no you can’t you can’t please don’t-”

“Ok, Ok, ok I won’t hyung. It’s ok, we can just talk, you don’t have to call them if you don’t want to hyung.”

Wonwoo eventually cried himself out, and Bohyuk spent a while trying to cheer him up before Wonwoo fell asleep.

Nobody questioned why he had fallen asleep in the living room. Nobody questioned why there were dried tear tracks on his face and a bundle of tissues at his feet. Nobody even made any attempt to be quiet when they came in.

Wonwoo didn’t expect the group to spend all of their time paying attention to him, but he didn’t think it was unreasonable for him to want some attention some of the time. To be cared for, listened to, heard and valued.

He didn’t feel cared for, listened to, heard or valued.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!  
> Let me know what you thought in the comments below!
> 
> Rose x
> 
> [Come talk to me on Twitter](https://twitter.com/RoseEnDiamant)


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